


Ghost

by Okadiah



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Contemplative, Gen, Season 5 Spoilers, Shiro is concerned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-04
Updated: 2018-03-04
Packaged: 2019-03-27 03:48:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13872474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Okadiah/pseuds/Okadiah
Summary: Shiro can't do much, but he can watch over his friends from the astral plane. Watch them move on and fight. Grow. Succeed.He watches over his clone too. And he's worried.





	Ghost

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone, just a quick ficlet about how (the real) Shiro might be feeling in the wake of season 5 about the team’s situation and about Kuron. I hope you enjoy!

He wasn’t gone, but that didn’t mean Shiro felt like he wasn’t.

There wasn’t a thing he could do about it, and he’d tried for what felt like ages. Yelling, screaming, running until he couldn’t run anymore, swearing and praying to Black, to Allura, to _anyone._ No one heard him. Nothing changed. He lingered in this strange, transparent, untouchable world as it’s only denizen. Hell, for all he knew he was _dead,_ but even the answer to that question eluded him too. Shiro couldn’t do anything except wait. Hone his already expansive patience to higher levels he’d never believed he could find within himself.

And, of course, he could watch.

That, at least, felt like one of the few saving graces in his situation. He wasn’t hanging in black nothingness like he could have been. The universe still existed, even if he’d been removed. Granted, he didn’t exactly know _where_ he was, if he wasn’t dead. The astral plane, or whatever place he and Zarkon had fought for Black in. The place he’d gotten stuck.

If that was what this was.

Shiro had to admit. He was proud of his paladins. In his absence, they’d limped on. Keith had taken the lead. Black had accepted him. Allura had joined the team like he’d suspected she would. They’d rallied. Fought back. They were moving forward.

Then the strangest thing happened. _He_ had turned up again. Shiro. Another Shiro.

For a long, difficult moment, he’d thought he’d lost his mind. And then he’d gotten angry.

Shiro thought he’d long since shouted every word he had in him, but when he’d seen _himself_ , smiling, bashful, beaten but so relieved to be with the team – _his_ team – he realized he’d been wrong because that couldn’t have been right. He was _here_ , wherever here was. He’d never left. There was no way. It was impossible.

But … clearly he was wrong. And there was only one person Shiro could think of who could possibly do something so inhumane. Something so unethical. Something so cruel.

How Haggar had done it, he didn’t know. When? Shiro laughed bitterly to himself. Who knew? He sure as hell didn’t.

Bitter envy had seared his soul as he’d watched the impostor in his enforced solitude. In his endless prison. That should have been him. That should have been him with his team. Him fighting the Galra. Him leading and consoling and supporting wherever he could. _Him_. But it wasn’t. It was a fake so believable _no one suspected the truth_.

Thankfully, Black had. For a time at least.

But that time had been enough for his envy to die out and replace itself with worry, and then with a growing sense of dread. That Shiro, his clone … the longer he watched it, the more he was sure it didn’t even know it _was_ a clone — and he’d checked thoroughly. Of course, he was suspicious in the beginning. This was another one of Haggar’s creations. The obvious answer was that she was using it to steal Voltron. To destabilize and destroy the team. It was all an act. It had to be.

Yet, even when the clone was alone, when it didn’t have to act real, it didn’t change its behavior. It still behaved like he would have. Moved like he did. Spoke to the others like he did. Shiro watched the clone scream from nightmares he himself still had. He watched that Shiro freeze from unstoppable onslaughts of the memories and horrors of the arena. He saw the concern. The compassion. The self-doubt. It was all real.

Which meant the discrepancies between what it did and what Shiro would really have done were stark and painful to see because _his clone didn’t know_. It didn’t see the problems coming. It didn’t realize it was being used. It didn’t understand it was an agent of Haggar’s. It was self-aware. It was real. As real as he was; a lost and unknowing twin.

Just one being used and manipulated, without even realizing it. One who manipulated his friends. Used Black. Helped Lotor. Fought with everyone. Argued. Changed.

And Shiro knew it wouldn’t end well. It was only a matter of time.

That was why, when his friends had crossed over to the astral plane, when they’d been _so close_ for the first time, calling for him and his help, he’d fought desperately to reach them. It wasn’t perfect. It took time and so much energy that, by the time he’d gotten there to help, he could do little more than watch them leave.

But Lance. Scrappy Lance. Underdog Lance, and the true heart of Voltron.

If anyone could figure it out, if anyone could do it, if anyone could interpret the warning signs and react in the way everyone – his clone included – needed, Lance could. Shiro believed it.

So Shiro tried. He’d tried to tell him. Tried to hint to Lance in _some way_ that there was another layer to the story. That he needed to be aware. That _he_ needed to somehow do the impossible.

He wasn’t sure how much got through. Lance hadn’t stayed long enough for Shiro to give him much of anything, but he saw the look Lance gave his clone after the fight on Olkarion. Shiro saw the concern, the suspicion, Lance’s mind slowly working over the problem and edging closer and closer to the truth with all the tact and well-meaning caution he possessed.

Shiro watched like a ghost. He watched them all, even his unfortunate clone, and hoped that whatever was coming wouldn’t destroy them. Wouldn’t break them. He _hoped_.

But that was all he could do.

Watch. And hope.


End file.
